Fragile (Broken #2) SVU

Chapter Twelve.

**Sky's POV**

Today is the start of the trial and I couldn't be more terrified. It isn't that I'm scared about telling the jury what happened to me. It's that I'm scared to face them, to hear what happened to me repeated in front of strangers.

It isn't as if I don't already have a permanent reminder growing inside me. I still haven't decided what I'm going to do about the baby, but I can't afford to worry about that right now.

"Sky, are you ready? We have to leave." My mom shouts from the living room.

I take one last look at my appearance. The white blouse I'm wearing is creased at the collar, and no matter how hard I try I can't smooth it out. The black pants cling to my waistline, the obvious bump that's starting to show makes me want to vomit. I take a deep breath and go to join my mom in the lounge.

After my mom double checks we have everything, we climb into the car and head towards the courthouse. My mom's hands are gripping the steering wheel, anxiety evident on her face. I know she's terrified and I am just thankful she's going through this with me. I couldn't do it on my own.

"You don't have to sit in if you don't want to." My mom says, as we pull into the car park.

"I have to."

She doesn't argue.

I can't tell her I'm not sure I can do it. She'll only try to convince me to testify over video. But I can't do that. I owe Bonnie and Caroline and Charlotte. I owe it to every girl who wasn't as lucky as me, and didn't make it back home to their families.

Our shoes tap along the empty, echoing walls as we walk towards the courtroom. I can't stop shaking and a sick feeling is brewing in the pit of my stomach. After my mom pushes open the heavy court doors, I take my seat next to Amanda on one of the benches, and my Mom sits next to me.

All I can see is the back of a man's head, he's dressed in a smart black suit, his head shaved. As more people filter into the courtroom, he turns around. He catches my eye and smiles at me, like he's proud of what he's done, a look that signals he's going to get away with it all.

The judge bangs his hammer on the wood, making me jump. My mom grips my hand and I fight the urge not to cry.

"I'd like to call the first witness to the stand please." He says, as the door behind him creaks open.

A man I remember well appears in the doorway, his hands in cuffs. He looks different from the other man. Instead of a smart suit, he's wearing orange prison overalls, his hands and feet chained up. He looks up at me, catching my eye, before smiling and running his tongue over his top teeth.

He sits down and looks bored to death, like he couldn't care less about his situation whatsoever. Barba stands up and walks over to the witness box.

"So Mr Thomas Humphrey, you are on trial today on the count of the rape and torture of Sky Leigh Benson, human trafficking and assaulting a police officer. What do you have to say about that?" He says.

"No comment." Thomas says, smirking.

"I'd like to present evidence A. Photographic evidence of Miss Benson's injuries." Barba says, distributing the photographs to the members of the jury, before throwing the rest down in front of Thomas.

"How do you explain these injuries? Your fingerprints were on the baseball bat used to assault this girl. Your seman also tested positive in Miss Benson's rape kit."

I thought I could handle this but I'd made a mistake coming here. I can't bear to hear everything repeated, my life paraded around in front of these strangers. The strangers whose job it is to decide whether I get justice for what they did to me.

I stare at my shoes, tears building in my eyes. The world seems to disappear around me.

"Objection." Someone yells, the word echoing around the walls, snapping me from my thoughts.

I look up and see Thomas's lawyer pacing up and down the courtroom, Barba is now sitting down.

"That is belittling the victim." Barba continues, fury evident in his features.

I stand up, bile rising in my throat. My mom tries to pull me back to sitting but I refuse to budge. I storm out of the court room and run down the corridor, clutching my chest in pain, the nausea bubbling in my lungs.

I shove open the bathroom door before locking the cubicle and throwing up. Tears stream down my face as my throat burns as if I'd drunk bleach.

When would this end? When would my life go back to normal?